


Butterfly Bandage

by returntosaturn



Series: A Different Sort of Magic [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 23:47:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8821111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/returntosaturn/pseuds/returntosaturn
Summary: An unexpected, trivial event leads Tina Goldstein, overworked police officer, into the office of Dr. Newt Scamander, DVM. // Non-magic, modern day AU.





	

Three arrests, six reports of robbery, one drug bust, and two leads on certain individuals who’d been on her radar for weeks with suspicious activity, namely involving the posting of scantily clad women on street corners. This had been her day. Her fourteen-hour day that had left her beaten, mentally and physically. (The drug dealer had just barely managed to catch her across the cheek with a knife).

It was a stupid move, and she felt stupid for missing it.

Graves had looked upon her in deep disapproval, snorted at the butterfly bandage the medics had issued for the tiny cut, rolled his eyes and sent her home.

Now it was two in the morning, and the roads were silent. Rain peppered her windshield; that annoyingly fine mist that she barely needed wipers for but fogged her vision just enough to aggravate her.

Her shoulders ached, her limbs heavy with finally getting off her feet. She twitched her neck to the left, hoping for a pop of relieved pressure, but it resisted. She huffed in annoyance.

The late-night radio hostess crooned sensually through her speakers, reading some letter somebody had sent in, depicting a struggle to find ‘Mr. Right’ and keep him interested.

She audibly groaned at the inflected voice the hostess put on, leaning to push the mute button. “Mr. Right, my ass,” she mumbled, leaning back and trying again to force the kink from her neck.

This time is worked, and she blinked briefly in relief. It was this tiny distraction that set her slamming the brakes when something small and grey skittered across her lane.

There was no traffic at this hour, thankfully. But the slick wet pavement did nothing to shore up her stop. She veered for the shoulder of the road, just hoping she hadn’t nicked whatever sort of animal that had been with the back end of her car.

“Whoa. Just a little skid, Goldstein. Get it together,” she mumbled to herself.

She glanced up to her rearview, craning her neck to try and see what the hell that thing was.

She reached for her phone in the console between the seats, searching to find the local game warden’s cell number. No chance he’d be in the office at this hour. She’d contact him to come out and clean up whatever the thing was and that would be that.

She prepared to dial, but something gave her pause. 

Whatever it was, it must’ve not been very big. It was so small that she could’ve just inferred it was a piece of debris. What if it was a baby animal? Was she just going to leave it there?

There was no sense making a bunch of phone calls for a baby bird or something so silly.

“Mercy Lewis…” she huffed, opening her door and stepping out into the fine drizzle. One hand on her gun, she approached. Not to defend herself against some animal, but it was late—or rather early in the morning—on a deserted road after all. One could never be too vigilant.

She inched around, a little worried about what she going to see. She wasn’t the squeamish type but any sort of hurt animal did make her uncomfortable. It happened the most everyone, she figured.

Behind her trunk, a tiny mewling sound broke the eerie hush of the dark. Her flashlight’s beam caught the form of a tiny kitten, curled tight in on itself, blueish-grey and soggy with rain.

“Oh,” she breathed. “Hi there…” She took a knee, setting the flashlight to the pavement, angled so it was fixed on the little creature.

“I almost got you, huh? I’m sorry, little thing.”

This was a tone she rarely used. Just with children. In her line of work, her heart often took over for her head. This was a fault she was well aware of. But the last time she could remember this sort of maternal, protective, strange sort of sense fall over her was with the two orphaned children… A young blonde girl and her older brother with a sad, pained expression and a dated haircut, both with darting eyes and heavy frowns. The mother had been reported by a neighbor, and several other children removed from her care along with the two. But the two had stuck with her. They planted themselves in the hard plastic chairs of the investigation room and hadn’t moved until she plied them with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. In the end, they’d been taken into the foster system, not the end goal, but a start at least.

She reached out, patting the cat’s fur with her fingertips. It meowed again, long and hurt. In the strange shadow her flashlight cast, she didn’t immediately see the mangled back leg, bloodied and torn.

“Geez…” She pulled back, but settled her fingers on the kitten’s spine again. “Should we get you some help? I can’t just leave you…”

The game warden was forgotten by now. It was just a kitten, after all. No need to wake anybody for something so menial.

She unzipped her uniform jacket, folding it into a makeshift blanket. Rain speckled the back of her blue button down, and had already reduced her hair to a frizzy, damp nest.

Avoiding the injury, she inched the jacket under the kitten. When she was nearly done, swaddling it into a little bundle, attempting to keep it dry and warm, the thing meowed again.

“I know, little thing. That’s alright. You’re ok…”

She carried it like a newborn, tucked in the crook over her arm, and settled the bundle in the passenger seat.

She knew where a vet’s clinic was near the area, but had no idea if they’d be even open at this hour. She gave a sigh of relief when she pulled in and there were actually lights on inside.

The rain had stilled by now, but the air was still uncomfortably damp as she scooped the kitten up again. It had fallen to sleep, but upon being jostled peeked its eyes open and gave a tiny meow.

“You’re alive,” she breathed, tucking it in the crook of her arm and stroking the fur between its ears with one finger. “We’re gonna get you checked out. You’re ok,” she assured it, locking up the car and stepping onto the curb.

The nurse on duty in the lobby was a blonde in her early twenties looking terribly bored, but perked up at the sight of Tina’s badge pinned to her shirt.

“No worries,” Tina said. “I’m Officer Goldstein. I found this cat on the side of the road not too far away. Its leg is injured badly, so…”

“Oh no,” the girl replied, reaching over the desk between them to push Tina’s coat out of the way a little. The kitten shrank back, snuggling into the warmth of the fleece.

“I’ll get the doctor right away. Just have a seat please.” She hurried off, and Tina turned towards any empty waiting area. The television hung in the corner played some obnoxious late night infomercial.

The cat had fallen asleep again in her lap, or at least was refusing to open its eyes to the harsh fluorescent lighting. She cradled it close, hoping there was something to be done for the little thing. She’d make sure it was safe and cared for, then she’d head home. She wasn’t delegated to keep it now, was she? They could find a home for it… She really didn’t need another thing to look after apart from her wild sister…

Her reverie was broken by the sound of a door shutting. She glanced up at the man she guessed was the night doctor, lanky and lean in a trim-fitted lab coat with a mop of curly reddish-brown hair that glowed in the lobby lighting. He moved in a bowlegged sort of gait that she wanted to laugh at if it hadn’t been so charming to watch on his tall frame.

“Hello,” he greeted quietly, before her now, with eyes on the kitten, hands clasping and unclasping in front of him. “My name is Doctor Scamander. I understand we’ve got a situation.”

His voice was inflected in a strange way she did not hear very often, leastways in her line of work. And Scamander? What kind of name was that?

“Yes,” she said evenly. “I found him on the side of the road. His back leg is injured badly.”

“Broken?” He leaned a bit closer, slowly, and reached a hand to stroke the kitten’s crown.

“I don’t know. I didn’t really get that good of a look. Probably.” She angled her head, trying to meet his eyes. An unconscious habit of hers.

He stepped back and straightened.

“Shall we…?” He gestured toward the door he’d come through, just briefly leveling his eyes to hers and glancing away again.

She followed him through to a short hall of rooms, doors all closed and firmly silent. He was the only doctor on duty, of course.

He led her to a room with a wide counter at the center, lined with a roll of tissue paper, just like a regular doctor’s examination room. A tall, spindly spotlight sat at the edge of the counter, a row of lightly stained cabinets hung above. All very sterile, but for the odd man now plucking a pair of gloves from a carton in the cupboard.

“Let’s have a look.” He gestured for her to lay the kitten on the counter. The tissue rustled and the cat mewled thinly. 

He took over quickly, reaching to unfold the jacket. He hummed thoughtfully at the sight of the injury. Tina winced. It looks even more gruesome in the bright light. He scooped up the cat’s little body in one hand, lifting it to pry the jacket from beneath. 

He held it out to her, glancing her direction and away again. But then he was back, eyes sharp with laser focus on the tiny bandage at the center of her right cheek. But as quickly as it had happened, it was over, and Tina stood uselessly with her jacket dangling from her fingers. 

She shook off the feeling of his eyes on her and took a professional tone. “What’s your diagnosis then?”

“I’ll have to run an X-ray to be sure, but it looks badly broken. Thank you for bringing her in, Officer. Most people would’ve driven off without a second glance.”

“Oh…I didn’t hit him.”

“Her,” he corrected, with just a hint of sharpness to his tone.

She huffed at being corrected. “She ran in front of my car,” she explained, suddenly feeling as if she were the one under interrogation.

She wasn’t even sure if he was listening, as he’d gone to patting the kitten’s head tenderly. It nuzzled his palm.

“Yes. Yes. We’ll get this fixed up.” He was definitely talking to the cat now, she decided.

“Should I…go…?” She tossed a gesture to the door, feeling so starkly out of place and unimportant.

“Please don’t.” It was professional, but the way his head snapped up and his eyes landed on hers for only the second time that night, made her gulp. “The X-rays will only take a minute. And then I’ll be able to determine the next step. Unless you would like to come back tomorrow afternoon at the latest…if there’s a surgery…and take her home.”

“Take her home?” she gawked, lifting a hand to stop his ramblings. “No. I just did my duty, that’s all. I’m not taking her in.” She crossed her arms over her chest, setting her hip decidedly.

A flicker of disapproval crossed his features. “Then it will be a shelter for her. A no-kill shelter, of course, but all the same…”

“Well…” she huffed. He watched the floor, but didn’t turn away, as if he were waiting on a change in decision. “I’ll wait outside,” she said, leaving the rest of the conversation unfinished, and stomped her way back to the hard vinyl chairs of the waiting room.

-O-O-

She wasn’t sure if it’d been ten minutes or and hour when she was jolted awake by a simple tapping on her shoulder.

“Miss…er…Officer…” 

She jumped, bracing her hands on the cold metal arms of her chair. Her eyes were assaulted by the fluorescent lighting, making her squint and hold a hand to her forehead. “Sorry,” she whispered groggily. “What?”

The doctor was standing before her, fiddling with his fingers in the same nervous way he had when he’d greeted her.

“It’s a bad break,” he explained. “I’m afraid its fractured in quite a few places. It seems like a bite. A large dog, maybe, but quite extensive in the damage. The leg will have to be amputated.”

“Oh…” She shifted groggily, finding her full focus through the cloud of too little sleep. “I’m…” Sorry. She couldn’t think what to say. The doctor’s face was unexpectantly gloomy.

His eyes were on the bandage again. 

“I’ll begin the surgery now. We’ll allow her to wake up and acclimate a bit before releasing her. She should be finished by noon tomorrow, and we’ll arrange a shelter to…”

“Um, no,” Tina stopped him. His eyes hadn’t left her cheek at all until now. He was looking at her with wide-eyed relief. 

“I’ll take her.” She nodded, as if to assure herself.

“Very well. You may retrieve her at noon tomorrow. For now, I think its best to go home and rest. Its nearing four in the morning after all.” 

“Tomorrow? Really?” she stood. Her knees crackled at the motion. 

He nodded. “Animals are remarkably resilient.”

“OK…Well, I left my number with the nurse at the desk...”

“Yes, thank you. And…” He rummaged in the pocket of his clean white coat, looking suddenly like a frightened deer that might bolt at any moment. “M-Might I recommend you this?”

He held a tiny tube, labeled in a simple font as Bacitracin. 

“For your cut,” he said needlessly, staring at the space between them.

“Oh…thank you.” She plucked it from his fingers, tactically avoiding touching their hands together.

They stood a few moments, mutually silent and mutually uncertain about how to end this strange, unpropitious evening. 

She was ready to nod in departure, ready to turn for the reception desk when he spoke again.

“I-Is there a name you’d prefer?”

Stunned, she became acutely aware of a dizzying sensation in her head. Must’ve been lack of sleep. “Uh…” she gaped. “Tina.”

A shy, wry grin grew on his face, meeting his eyes, his cheeks blossoming red. “So sorry, I meant the kitten.”

Now she flushed, all the way to her toes, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Oh, God. Of course you did. I’m…tired…” An idiot. 

Of course he’d read the chart the nurse had asked her to fill out when she returned from the examination room. Read her name, hesitantly penned there in tiny, unsure letters.

“Milly. Milly, maybe?” It sounded as if she was asking for his approval. She ground her teeth, wishing the floor would just fall open so she could slip through.

“That’s lovely.” He nodded his agreement, stepping away to retreat back to his office, eyeing her and still grinning openly. “Goodnight.”

“Good…” she turned on heel, jarring her knee against one of the hard plastic chairs. “…night.”

She hustled away without so much as a glance back to him. If she stayed a moment longer, she was sure she’d explode out of sheer embarrassment. The morning was deep grey-blue and damp when she emerged from the stark whiteness of the office. Her car was waiting, familiar and welcoming as a vessel home and towards her bed after this bizarre series of events.

Normalcy melted back around her, but even as she drove, she could not stop thinking of how much a litter box must cost, where she’d put it in her and her sister’s tiny apartment, and the glint of his blue-green eyes under white fluorescent light.

**Author's Note:**

> *dodges peanut shells*


End file.
